Caught In The Undertow
by Mochifreak
Summary: Hermione and Ron are trying to settle into domestic life, but Hermione is finding it hard to be tied down with the red-head. Meanwhile, Daphne Greengrass accidentally runs into the Golden Trio on a night out, and starts to become involved with the turbulent group. A drama in the workplace unfolds, and Hermione doesn't know what to do anymore, not when she's caught in the undertow.
1. Prologue

Serious Disclaimer: All references and ideas related to the Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and Co.

Not Serious Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be a poor little fanfiction writer.

* * *

"Honestly, Ron!" Hermione finally bit out, fed up with the redhead's snail-like pace in getting ready for their celebration. "I really don't know if you could go any slower!"

"Merlin's balls, Hermione! Don't get your knickers in a twist." Said redhead waved off Hermione's words like they were pesky flies buzzing in the air above his head. "I don't know why you're so worked up. We're just meeting with Harry and Ginny at the Three Broomsticks. They'll understand if we're a bit late."

Hermione frustratedly ran her hand through her hair, before casting a quick Tempus charm. She paled at the time.

"RON! We're leaving, now!" She tugged on his arm as he finally finished looping his belt around his trousers, and a second later they were appearing in the pub with a loud snap. Ron shook his head, woozy at the feeling of an unexpected side-along apparition. The pair glanced around, before locating the still-famous Boy-Who-Lived sitting in the corner with his longtime girlfriend, Ginny Weasley.

Harry glanced up from reading a newspaper, and his face broke into a huge grin as he noticed the friends that completed the infamous Golden Trio. With such an infectious smile, Hermione couldn't remain frowning, so she pushed her annoyance at Ron to the back of her mind and navigated her way through the crowd towards her friend. By the time the dysfunctional couple had reached the small table, Ginny had noticed them as well and jumped up in excitement. She wrapped her arms tightly around her brother, as Ron sputtered sheepishly and scratched his head.

"It's so good to see you guys again! I feel like it's been forever." She laughed as she flopped back down next to Harry after embracing Hermione. "How's the Golden Duo?"

"Please don't call us that," Hermione sighed at the nickname Ginny had concocted for them months ago. "I didn't even like the name 'The Golden Trio', so obviously I wouldn't like this label."

"Oh lighten up Herm." Ginny grinned, the flash of white teeth in the dim pub still managing to lessen the aggravation Hermione was feeling. "Here, have a butterbeer. We're ordering Firewhiskey later to celebrate."

Hermione accepted the offered drink with a grateful nod, before popping the cap off and taking some long pulls. The sweet taste of the drink softened the tense muscles in her throat and helped her relax some more. Then Ron ruined it, by knocking his own bottle over and spilling the contents all over her new blouse.

"Ron!" She exclaimed, more surprised than angry at the moment. She pulled out her wand and thought about the easiest way to not ruin her newest piece of clothing.

"Tergeo," She muttered under her breath, and the butterbeer seeped out of her shirt, rising to float in a globe of liquid. "Scourgify." She continued, banishing the globe.

"Wow! That's our Hermione, always quick on the spot." Harry praised nervously, trying to defuse an argument before it began. Unfortunately, his comment was not even registered by the angry young woman as she fixed a glare upon Ron.

"Why do you always have to be so careless, Ron? What if I had forgotten what spell to siphon liquid out of something? I would've ruined my new blouse." She forced the words through her mouth, trying to remain in control and not rant. "You never focus on anyone else but yourself! We were late because you were too busy trying to find matching socks! Why do I always have to take care of you?" Her words became more heated, and she gripped the table, her knuckles white as she tried to calm down. This was a rather common occurrence, so she succeeded in not hexing her significant other's face.

"I'm sorry, ok?" The redhead muttered, his face almost as red as the famous Weasley hair. "It was an accident. No need to get so mad."

"It would be ok if this happened every so often, but this happens at least three times a day! When will you learn to care about your surroundings?" Hermione ground out. "I always have to fix your 'accidents' by myself, and where are you?"

"Er.. Look guys.." Harry interrupted gently, shooting a careful look at Hermione. "We're celebrating the fact that Ginny made the Holyhead Harpies tonight, ok? Let's try not to argue." Ron glanced at Harry gratefully, before looking back down at his thumbs. Hermione took a deep breath, before looking away from Ron and staring at the wall in an effort to ignore the clumsy redhead. Harry and Ginny resumed their conversation, trying to fill the gaps of silence in the now cold atmosphere.

"Our Firewhiskey is here." Harry announced, before taking the proffered bottle in his hand and pouring liberal amounts of it into four fine-stemmed glasses. Each of the table's occupants took a glass (one of them grudgingly) and raised it for a cheer.

"To Ginny!" Harry smiled lovingly at his girlfriend. "Congratulation. I know this means a lot to you." Ginny sighed happily and leaned against his shoulder, joy written all over her face. Hermione was struck by a twinge of jealously. Why couldn't her relationship be like that? Ron and her were always arguing, always disagreeing over the smallest things. Harry and Ginny were like a fairytale couple straight out of a book.

"Harry? Is that you?" A feminine voice called out cautiously, testing the hostility of the people sitting at the table. The group turned as one to meet the eyes of none other than Daphne Greengrass, a former Slytherin at Hogwarts.

"Daphne!" Harry called out in surprise. "How are you doing? I saw you fighting in the battle at Hogwarts. I'm glad you stayed." The woman averted her eyes (they were a curious stormy blue-grey color), and nodded cordially as a small "I'm doing fine," slipped out between her lips.

"Tracey died in that battle." She suddenly spoke up, surprising the four. "A Death Eater cut her down without any hesitation. Her. A student. That's when I knew I was fighting for the right side." She finished, looking a little lost in memories as the gloomy subject of the battle of Hogwarts was discussed.

"I'm sorry. I knew you two were close." Harry murmured quietly, his emerald eyes forlornly tracing the grains of wood on the table. "There was too much death."

"Well, I didn't come here to depress you," Daphne teased, her smile not reaching her eyes. "I just wanted to congratulate Ginny on her acceptance into the Holyhead Harpies." Ginny looked up, surprised.

"Thanks Daphne." She smiled kindly. "You're not too bad for a Slytherin!" She added cheekily. Daphne laughed quietly.

"I suppose I'm not." She whispered, almost to herself. "Well I'm just glad to have run into you four, I think I'll be going now." She continued, shaking off her sadness and standing a bit straighter. Almost as an afterthought, she added casually, "Oh and Hermione, I'll be working in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, just like you. I look forward to it!" She smiled mysteriously, before sauntering off.

Hermione watched her move gracefully away until she was swallowed up by the crowd. She turned back to the table to see how everyone else would react.

"That was a pleasant surprise." Harry commented, smiling widely. "It's good to know some Slytherins, or I should say former-Slytherins, aren't all bad." Ginny nodded along, and stroked her chin sagely in a mockery of her boyfriend.

"I think she shouldn't be trusted." Ron spoke up, his eyes slightly flinty. "She's still a Slytherin, and Slytherins are bad news." Hermione sighed at his conservative viewpoint towards Hogwarts houses, but said nothing in lieu of starting an argument. Harry frowned slightly, but didn't want to upset his best mate. They sat there in an awkward type of silence, before Harry stood up and stretched, joints popping in abundance after sitting still for so long.

"I think it's time Gin and I went home." He yawned, wrapped an arm around Ginny's waist now that she had also stood. "I'm going with her to meet the new teammates tomorrow, and we need some sleep." Ron snorted.

"Like you're going to be getting any sleep." He chuckled. Ginny flushed and glared at him.

"That's extremely inappropriate, Ronald!" She chided, shaking an index finger in front of his face. Ron just grinned, and Hermione suddenly felt a wave of affection for the affable and easy-going man. Harry grinned at the renewed atmosphere, and put down a few Galleons to pay for the evening's drinks.

"It's on me, guys." He announced, before disapparating with his girlfriend in his arms. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, slightly stony, before Hermione offered an arm out to him. He took the arm, and they disappeared in a whorl as they apparated home.


	2. Chapter 1: Enter, Hermione

The chapter before was the prologue, and this is the first chapter. Hope you enjoy Hermione's first morning at the Ministry!  
Huge thank you to thegenuineimitation for this prompt.

Serious Disclaimer: All references and ideas related to the Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and Co.

Not Serious Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I would own a Lamborghini. Since I don't have a Lamborghini, I don't own Harry Potter. Sadly.

* * *

Hermione lay on the bed, staring thoughtfully into the inky blackness as the sound of Ron's snores reverberated throughout the room. She tucked the comforter under her chin, and arranged the blanket over her legs. Currently, she was thinking of how to make up with Ron after the blow-up at The Three Broomsticks. No ideas were coming to mind. It would obvious what Ron liked. Quidditch, Butterbeer, and eating mainly made up those desires. However, she had no intention of watching him stuff his face, slop a drink all over himself, or shout obscenely while watching a Quidditch game.

Her intelligent mind drifted away from the topic, tiring of trying to find nonexistent solutions. Instead, she thought of the upcoming day. It would be her first day working at The Department of International Magical Cooperation. After the war, she decided that she wanted to have a job that would continue to help the magical population, in the case that another tyrant like Voldemort ever rose up again. The department had been overjoyed to see her application, and had accepted her without a second thought. She was, after all, one of the three that made up The Golden Trio.

Deciding that it was not the time to be pondering the meaning of life, she turned onto her side and curled into a more comfortable position. Her last few thoughts before the fuzzy warmth of sleep claimed her mind were 'I wonder why Daphne joined the department too..'

* * *

"G'bye Mione" Ron attempted to get out of his mouth while chewing a huge glob of.. something. Instead, it came out as "G'byu Muhne" to Hermione's ears. She sighed and nodded curtly, not wanting to be late and create a bad impression.

"I'll see you later, Ron." She replied, honestly trying to be nicer to the poor man. He nodded while putting another waffle into her mouth, and it was this last image she saw as her world twirled about in apparation. With a pop, she arrived in a small alley by the telephone booth that led to the Ministry of Magic. She stepped outside to see a small glimpse of Muggle London and seeing that the booth was empty, walked in and dialed the code. A ding was heard and the booth suddenly shot down, traveling to the Atrium of the Ministry.

She nervously swayed as the elevator (that's what it actually was) kept descending at a fast rate, closer and closer to her first day at work. She finally reached her destination, and cautiously poked her head out of the booth. The dull roar of hundreds of feet walking across the lobby and conversations being held surrounded her, and almost no one noticed her entrance. Despite having been here a few times before, this was the first time she had come in on a completely normal day where there had been no extreme conflict. The atmosphere was business-like and everyone seemed like they had places to be, things to do.

With a sigh of relief, she stepped completely out and looked around for the gold lattice-worked elevators that would lead to the different department floors. Locating it, she started navigating through the crowd, trying to avoid bumping into the various people literally speed-walking around. She had to dodge out of the way of several people, and it took her like what seemed forever to reach her intended destination. One of the elevators dinged and the doors opened. People poured out, released from the tight confines within. She stepped into it, remembering to press the button for floor five, where her department was based. She was swept against the back of the elevator as other workers crowded into the small space.

She waited patiently as people stepped out each floor. A feminine voice announced robotically "_Level Five, Department of International Magical Cooperation, incorporating the International Magical Trading Standards Body, the International Magical Office of Law and the International Confederation of Wizards, British Seats._"

Hermione had to shove her way through the mass of people to get to the door. She stepped out with another woman, and belatedly realized it was Daphne. She debated whether she should call out as Daphne turned towards one of the hallways.

"Daphne!" She tried to get the woman's attention. The blonde paused mid-step, before turning on her heel. She greeted Hermione with a smile that seemed all too satisfied.

"Hermione." Her voice was velvety soft, and almost dangerous. "How nice to see you this morning. Is there anything you need?" After starting conversation with the enigmatic woman, Hermione realized she really didn't have anything to talk about.

"I..Uh.. I mean.. I'll be working in the International Magical Office of Law. What about you?" Hermione stammered, her face heating up in embarrassment. Compared to the impeccably dressed pureblood, Hermione felt slightly inferior with her comfortable loafers and black robes. The blonde's hair, Hermione noticed, was styled carefully, with slight curls at the end of a mostly straight plain of hair.

"I work there too." The polite woman stated. "Would you like me to show you around?"

"If that's not too much trouble." Hermione meekly requested. "I have to meet with.." She glanced at a sheet of paper she was clutching in her hands "Theodore Bursnell."

"He's the newly appointed head of all three offices in this department." Daphne informed Hermione, leading her down a twisting and turning hallway of offices. "He's a very competent man, and not biased by blood." They arrived before a door made of wood of a rich color, with a plaque that read 'Head of Department: Theodore Bursnell'.

"Thank you for getting me here in one piece." Hermione shyly looked at the taller woman, grateful that her first day was starting nicely.

"Believe me, the pleasure is all mine." Daphne replied, a strange smirk never leaving her face. With a sudden move, she delicately raised Hermione's hand upon her own, and left a chaste kiss on her knuckles. She turned gracefully and strolled out of sight. Hermione stared, the ghost of the woman's touch still warming her hand where it had been kissed. She gathered herself up and knocked smartly upon the expensive door. Some muffled words were called out from within the room, and she assumed they were an invitation to come in.

"Hello sir?" Her voice rising slightly at the end of her statement to form a question. "Theodore Bursnell?"

"I believe that's what it says upon the door." An amused voice replied. She took in the clean-cut, honest face sitting behind a massive desk. Mr. Bursnell was a light blonde, with his hair neatly arranged so that none of it would get in his face. A curl adorned his forehead, while the rest simply lay flat, out of the way. He had a strong jaw, and an intimidating bridge of a nose. His green eyes sparkled friendlily, but also seemed business-like.

"Ms. Granger, I presume?" His tenor voice filled all the corners of the room even though it was no louder than a conversational tone. "Come, sit down." He invited, gesturing to a comfortable chair in front of the desk.

Hermione took a careful seat on the chair (more of an armchair, really) and looked up at her new boss. He patiently waited as she shifted a bit.

"I hope you don't mind when I say I've heard quite a bit about you." He started kindly. "However, I understand that you probably would not enjoy the publicity from being part of the Golden Trio. What I wanted to discuss was your performance in school academics. I've heard very good things about your OWLs, and the NEWTs you eventually took after the war."

Hermione blushed a bit at the praise, but nodded along as he rattled off her achievements. It was quite a lengthy list.

"–The thing is, Ms. Granger, I've heard many good things about you academically. Of course, there's also the Golden Trio business that has been taken into account. The question is, can you deal with the pushy officials that will be demanding new laws, the foreign dignitaries who look down their noses at you, the overbearing members of the Wizengamot?" He intoned gravely.

"I think I can, yes." Hermione replied determinedly. "I've lived with being a 'Muggleborn' for the past 7 years, I think I can handle this. Also, please call me Hermione." The man smiled encouragingly.

"In that case, you may call me Theodore." He returned in kind. "Your office in the third down to the hall, on the left. If you ever need any help, Daphne Greengrass is in the office across from yours. For now, I would like you to be familiarize with some of the faces in the folder on your desk. I'm bringing whoever's here today out to lunch to celebrate our newest member. Take it easy, it's your first day."

Hermione beamed at her excellent new boss, before uncrossing her legs and standing up. He stood from his leather chair also, and held out a hand. They shook hands, and it was not a surprise that his grip was firm.

"See you later, Theodore." She bid the man farewell, before exiting through the door she had entered through. She carefully walked down the hallway, counting the doors until she reached a door where a floating chisel was etching words in the new plaque. 'Hermione Granger: International Magical Offi' was currently all that was written.

She pulled on the unlocked door's handle, and the door swung open. Inside, lay a small but nicely designed office. A moderate sized desk sat in the middle of the room, and one comfortable looking chair was behind it. Two bookshelves stood to either side of the desk, and several paintings lined the wall facing Hermione. A fat orange folder sat on her desk, and she walked over and scooped it up. Inside were multiple files on several important politicians that she would need to study. She turned around when the sound of the door being opened met her ears.

"Settling in well, I hope?" A silky voice asked. Hermione shivered, even though the room wasn't cold. Daphne stood in the entryway, assessing the as-of-yet bare room.

"Yes, Theodore seems like a very friendly man." Hermione enthused. "I really look forward to working here!"

"Theodore IS a very considerate man." Daphne agreed. "He helped me settle in too, when I first joined the department. If I may ask, why did you wait so long before getting a job? Ronald and Harry joined the Auror office right after the war."

"I didn't feel like it was the right time. Of course, I knew that all the offices knew my name already, and I didn't want my reputation to affect my acceptance too much. I know it still does, but not as much as it would have if I had wanted to join a more militaristic branch of the Ministry." Hermione confessed. "I was also thinking about going on to University to learn the Healing Arts, but I've ultimately decided that work here would be much more valuable.

"That's very patriotic of you." Daphne commented, amused. Hermione blushed at the compliment.

"I just want to continue helping people." She replied. "How did you and Harry meet, anyways? I wasn't aware that you two knew each other."

"Harry saved me from a Killing Curse during the Battle of Hogwarts. I was taking Tracey's body to the Great Hall. He tackled me and threw me down, before continuing towards the entrance of Hogwarts. I think it was before he went to Voldemort." Daphne explained. "We talked later, and I thanked him for it. Being the hero he is, he said it was no big deal."

Hermione smiled at the idea. Harry was always looking to save people, even if it put his own life in danger. An animated paper crane flew in through the open door, and fell into Daphne's outstretched palm. She unfolded the now normal piece of note paper, and frowned at the contents.

"I have an appointment to attend down on the 10th level, in the courtrooms." Daphne clarified at Hermione's mystified look. "I should be leaving now." However, instead of immediately walking out the room, she stepped closer to Hermione. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she continued.

"I look forward to lunch. Perhaps we could spend an hour in the afternoon in Diagon Alley? I would like to show you around. We'll be eating in Tom's Alley, so it's just a step away." Hermione was slightly uncomfortable with how close they were, but didn't move away. She nodded shakily, and Daphne stepped back, locking eyes with her the whole way. Abruptly breaking contact, she turned and sauntered out of the room. Hermione took a ragged breath.

'What was that?' She wondered to herself.


	3. Chapter 2: Steps Into Diplomacy

I've been busy all week, and I wrote this in an hour because I'm leaving to the US today. I may or may not have enough time to update during camp. I'll be writing on the plane~ Cross your fingers.

Serious Disclaimer: All references and ideas related to the Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and Co.

Not Serious Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't have to cook my own food. Since I cook my own food, I obviously don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

"Hermione!" A voice called. Hermione's head snapped up, her wand in her hand before she could even distinguish who had entered the room. Theodore sheepishly froze in the doorway, holding a mug in his hand. Hermione embarrassedly lowered her wand.

"Sorry, Theodore. I'm a little jumpy these days." Hermione confessed quietly. He nodded sympathetically. Choosing to ignore the incident, he kept talking.

"How is the studying going along?" He chose a safe topic, steering them away from the topic of the war. She sighed frustratedly and slapped down a stack of stapled papers.

"I am doing fine, Theodore, thank you." She wearily replied, before standing up and stepping away from her desk. "Is it time for lunch already?" She suddenly asked, alarmed, looking away from the painting she had been examining.

"No," Theodore smirked. "I just stopped by to see how you were settling in. Have you met Daphne yet?" Hermione nodded.

"She's a very talented person," Hermione commented. "When did she join the Ministry?" Theodore paused, and tilted his head to the side to think for a moment.

"I believe she joined directly after the Battle of Hogwarts." Hermione's new boss answered. "I have a meeting to attend in the courtrooms. I'll see you in an hour?" He continued, after casting a quick Tempus charm. Hermione nodded before looking back down at the folder in front of her. Theodore left the room quietly, with one last smile. 'Time to get back to work,' Hermione thought to herself.

'Igor Ankundinov' The next page read, as animated ink wiggled from the top of the page to below a picture of a sneering man. Hermione briefly ran her eyes over the features harshened by many years of scowling and frowning. 'Russian diplomat. Characteristics: stubborn, patriotic, pureblood elitist. Known to be aligned with Dark Russia.'

Not wanting to read another depressingly thorough file, she continued to the next page. Various black-and-white moving photos were clipped together. A picture of the Russian diplomat and his family glared up at her, two sons imitating their father while a daughter looked off in another direction. There was no wife in sight. The man waved a derogatory gesture in her direction, then pointedly looked away. She sighed and brushed the page away like the last. On and on, she skimmed various files on the foreign diplomats, many of them similar to the ones she had already passed.

"These are the men I will soon have to be working with." Hermione murmured to herself quietly. "Sounds like we'll get along just _great_." Her ears perked up as a voice rose above the normal monotone of the workplace. She ignored it and continued roaming the pages and taking notes on a small pad of white paper with a quill Ron had given her. More voices joined the first, all chattering outside her office door.

Gradually, the noise outside of her office grew to a roar. As the curiosity got the better of her, Hermione stuck her head out of her office. She peered down the hallway to find the source of the commotion. A crowd was gathering, pouring out of their offices and mingling to chat. She cast a Tempus to confirm her suspicions. As she thought, it was time for lunch. 'I should really get a conventional clock. It's more convenient in an office than constantly casting 'Tempus''

She walked back to her desk and neatly rearranged the folder. She had already raced through more than half the files inside, memorizing the names, faces, and personalities of about 20 people. She now knew more than she ever wanted to about the Dark Purebloods of Europe. She brushed an unruly lock of hair behind her ear with an absent hand as she shoved the last of the papers back in.

"How goes your progress?" A feminine voice asked, originating from the doorway. Hermione spun around in surprise, she had not heard the woman enter the room. Daphne smiled at the slightly aggravated expression Hermione was directing at herself for her lapse of attention. "Don't frown, it'll give you wrinkles." She joked, stepping forward to place a hand on the shorter woman's head.

"I've memorized about a couple dozen files on various diplomats." Hermione answered the blonde woman's question, and chose to ignore the statement that followed it. "How was your meeting?"

"Hmm. It went fine. Maybe you should sit in on one of those meetings, to gain experience." Daphne mused quietly, running one of her hands through her hair. Her eyes flickered back and forth as she thought. "Well, we should go now. It IS lunchtime, Theodore will be wondering where we are. He sent me to pick you up, in case you get lost in the journey down the hallway." Daphne lightly teased. Hermione tried to frown, but found that her lips tugged up into a small smile.

Daphne slipped one of Hermione's hand into hers, and tugged her out into the hallway. When Hermione raised a questioning eyebrow at the linked extremities, Daphne smirked.

"To keep you safe." She yelled over the commotion, and pulled her into the crowd. Despite the strange likeness to a child being led around, Hermione had to concede that without the hand safely gripping her, she would have been sucked in by the mass of people socializing in the hallway. With a stumble, she stepped out of the other side of the crowd. Theodore was standing there with several strangers, all chatting amiably. He smiled at the disheveled state of his newest employee. Hermione hurriedly patted down her hair (it was starting to frizz) and straightened her clothes.

"Er... Hello." She said in response to the group staring at her. They broke out in a round of chuckles. One by one, they stepped forward and introduced themselves.

"I'm Natasha Shire. I'm the main editor of laws that need to be revised." A tanned, dark blonde, athletic woman said. "This is my assistant, Sheila Tanden." Another women stepped forward, and stood slightly behind Natasha. She was pale and had dark hair. The two contrasted each other nicely. Hermione felt a whisper near her ear as Daphne leaned forward to say something.

"They're together, if you know what I mean." Her amused voice confided confidentially. Hermione blinked in surprise. She whispered back, out of the corner of her mouth.

"Is that allowed here?" She frowned. "Wouldn't that disrupt the workplace?" A chuckle sounded, rumbling from Daphne's chest.

"As long as it's kept subtle and under wraps, Theodore lets it go on. And before you ask, it's pretty normal for two woman to be together." Hermione let the question that had predictably been on the tip of her tongue dissolve. She didn't know what else to say, so she just whispered a word of thanks to the light blonde before continuing to listen.

"-and I'm Michael Wearsworth." A confident, brunette man was saying. "I'm the leader of recruitment and Human Resources."

'The Magical world is not so different from the Muggle world in terms of business.' Hermione thought to herself. She felt a nudge on her shoulder, and realized that everyone was moving towards the elevators.

"Zoning out, Ms. Granger?" A mock angry voice reprimanded her. "Daydreaming is frowned upon here in our office." Daphne continued, letting a note of humor bleed into the false tone.

"Oh, come off it," Hermione grinned happily. It had been too long since she had a carefree moment. "Where exactly in Tom's Alley are we going for lunch?" She asked.

"Don't know. Suppose it's a surprise." Daphne commented airily. "Theodore likes to treat us occasionally. That man's a strange one." She chuckled. Hermione tilted her head back to smile at the friendly Slytherin, and paused momentarily as she admired the aristocratic features. Even under the harsh lights, Daphne's skin remained smooth and rosy, her sharp eyes softening in laughter. Blushing slightly, Hermione jerked her head back down, facing forward. They stepped into the elevator, rejoining the group that they were heading out to lunch with. Theodore stood at the back, chatting with anyone who would talk to him.

'_Level four. Level three. Level two.' _The elevator's melodic voice chimed at each floor, stuffing in more people with each stop. '_Atrium_." The elevator finally reached the lobby, and people practically fell out the open doors as they were released from the tight confines. Hermione exited quickly, not wanted to spend more time pressed tightly against the blonde. It was a highly awkward experience, one that she was not keen to repeat. She waited and tried to get her lungs to function properly again, as people kept pouring out of the elevator.

Finally, everyone was out and lingering about in some crowd form in front of the elevator.

"GET OUT OF THE WAY!" Some random worker shouted as he tried to get to the elevator before it closed. The group scattered, and Theodore shouted from near the floo.

"What are you all waiting for? Get over here!" He yelled. "We're going to 'Donovan's Dining'. Got that?" With that, he dropped a Knut into a bowl, grabbed a pinch of floo powder, and disappeared into the green flames.

The rest followed suit, dropped money to pay for the powder and spinning away. Hermione wrinkled her nose at the smell of magical discharge with each floo. She had never enjoyed magical transport, but she supposed it was unavoidable this time. She dropped her Knut into the bowl, grabbed the gritty powder in her hand, and threw it into the flames. The magical green flames roared upward, and she shouted "Donovan's Dining, Tom's Alley." She stepped confidently into the fire, and her whole world spun. She was spat out of a fireplace in a well-furnished restaurant. She held onto a nearby chair to reorient herself, and checked out the place.

"You okay over there?" Daphne asked as she stepped out of the fireplace, impeccable as always. Hermione straightened up as the room stopped spinning, for the most part.

"Never been better." She lied as she queasily made her way over to where Theodore was commandeering various people to move several tables together. She sat down at the seat to the right of the one at the head of the table. Theodore flopped down in the seat at the head of the table a moment later, tired from shouting orders.

"You won't mind if I order for you, will you?" He asked. "I've been here a lot, I think I know something you'll really enjoy." Hermione nodded. She had already glanced at a menu brochure, and most of the courses sounded foreign and she had no idea what they had meant. Daphne gracefully slid into the seat across from Hermione.

"Are you feeling ok?" She asked worriedly. Despite Hermione's best efforts, her nausea had returned.

"Just feeling a bit sick from the floo. I'll be fine in a bit." Hermione smiled weakly. "Could I have a glass of water?" She asked, after thinking for a bit. Theodore called over a waiter, and soon Hermione was sipping from a glass of cool water tinged with a slice of lemon. The water helped settle her stomach, and soon the room stopped spinning altogether.

She glanced in the opposite direction, and realized Theodore had created a long dining table using many small square table. Her coworkers settled down in their own seats, and were busy ordering. Theodore had already placed his and Hermione's orders, while Daphne had chosen for herself. She glanced over at Daphne, and she caught Hermione's look. A silent smirk was comforting for Hermione in this situation.

"Any questions?" Theodore asked kindly, knowing that Hermione was feeling slightly overwhelmed by the rich settings. She thought for a moment, before sorting out several.

"How do you make one of those flying paper cranes with messages?" She asked. She had seen them everywhere, and wanted to know if she could create them. It would be much more convenient than walking to someone personally and delivering a note.

"You write a note on an enchanted piece of note paper that the Ministry hands out, and tap it with your wand and say 'Animo Grus'." He replied. "It means 'Animate Crane' in Latin, and the paper is enchanted to do the hard things. All of you have to do is say the charm and think of who you want to send it to. Then it'll be off." Hermione marveled at the things the Ministry could come up with.

"Of course, if you're in a higher position," Theodore continued. He coughed. "Like me, of course." He jokingly boasted. "You can create your own animal note paper. Mine is blue and a raven, since I was in Ravenclaw. I have to say a different charm, which would be Animo Corvus. Much more elegant."

"He's an arrogant one, isn't he?" Daphne rolled her eyes at their playful boss. He pretended to be offended. Hermione smiled at their antics, and it was at this moment their food arrived. The smartly dressed butler-like waiter placed a soup and ravioli combo in front of her. The soup was a creamy brown color, and a buttery scent rose off it.

"You're supposed to dip the pasta in the soup." Theodore helpfully explained. "It's a special kind of Japanese broth. The ravioli is stuffed with specially shredded cheddar and garlic." Hermione's eyes widened at the fanciful dish.

"Try it." Daphne nudged Hermione's hand. Hermione stabbed a piece of ravioli with a small, spear-like fork that was provided. The rich smell of garlic poured out of the ravioli with the penetration, and she quickly dipped it in the soup. She delicately placed it in her mouth, and the mouth-watering morsel tasted every bit as good as it smelled.

"Wow, Theodore." She commented. "This is amazing!" The man smiled kindly.

"I knew you'd like it." He said. He clapped his hands abruptly, and stood up. Everyone at the table turned their attention to him.

"In honor of our newest employee, Hermione Granger, lunch is on me today!" He announced. There was a cheer. "Everyone, raise your glasses!" He continued. Countless glasses were raised, and with a toast to Hermione's continued employment, lunch was resumed.


	4. Chapter 3: A Welcome Gift

AN: Since I'm lazy, I was going to abandon this story. Your reviews and follows made me guilty enough to come back and write more.

Serious Disclaimer: All references and ideas related to the Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and Co.

Not Serious Disclaimer: If I own Harry Potter, I wouldn't be procrastinating my homework to do this.

* * *

Hermione didn't realize she was smiling until she caught Daphne staring.

"What is it?" She asked curiously, as Daphne unashamedly continued, tilting her head to the side. Her face heated up a bit as Daphne didn't move.

"You're happy." Daphne stated calmly. Hermione blinked, surprised.

"I like to think I'm happy relatively often," Hermione replied, a bit confused. "Why do you think so?"

"That night I saw you out with your friends, you looked rather angry. You've been grinning like a fool all through lunch." Daphne replied. Hermione's faint blush deepened.

"I was angry at Ron." She confessed quietly. "He spilled his drink on my new blouse and I had to fix it."

Daphne looked amused.

"Is that all it takes to make the great Hermione annoyed?" She teased lightly, smiling to show that she didn't really mean it.

"I was already pretty annoyed at him," Hermione explained, sighing. "He almost made us late because he is just _so_ disorganized. He was too busy taking a nap to plan ahead. I can't even believe he left his socks on the floor! He's too lazy to even move it two more feet to put it in the convenient basket I _made_ for him!" Daphne chuckled quietly to herself.

"So, Hermione is a neat freak, huh?" She smirked. Hermione tried to deny it, but her sheepish smile gave her away.

"I tried to hide my tendencies, most people don't appreciate nit-picky habits." Hermione shrugged. "I can't help it, I want to organize everything.

Daphne moved her hand forward and idly played with the back of Hermione's hand.

"I think it's a nice quality to have." She complimented languidly. "Don't listen to people who tell you to change who you are to please society." Hermione's eyes glanced up from the spot on the table she had been staring at.

"I thought you would be more uptight." Hermione joked. "Seeing as you are a pureblood."

"Well, my parents were pretty much neutral in the war." Daphne commented thoughtfully. "They were relatively liberal in terms of pureblood diplomacy, so I wasn't raised too harshly. I was expected to have impeccable manners and outward appearances, of course, but they gave me the luxury of being a child while others grew up much too fast."

Hermione bit her lip, a bit awkward now that she had steered the conversation into talking about the war. Daphne's eyes flickered in her general direction. They were saved from the dead space between them by the sound of the lunch party starting to shift and stand.

"Shall we?" Daphne's eyelashes fluttered coquettishly as she tugged Hermione towards her with the hand that had gently closed around Hermione's. Hermione was caught off guard and tilted forward, pulled from her chair towards the blonde. Daphne's eyes widened, having not expected Hermione to be so deep in her own thoughts. Daphne's other arm curled around Hermione's waist as she used gravity to catch Hermione with her body.

It all happened very fast for Hermione, who never really had the best reflexes. It took her a while to realize she was not, in fact, lying on the ground in a shameful display of clumsiness, but that she was nestled up against a very pleasant body. Before she could stop herself, she rubbed her cheek against the smooth fabric, surrounded by warmth and the comforting feeling of an arm pressed against her back.. An arm.. That belonged to a certain Daphne Greengrass. She jumped back, a magenta blush flaming it's way like a wildfire from her face down her neck and up to her ears.

She forced herself to look up at Daphne's eyes in the midst of the stampede that was still going on, and only found kindness and slight amusement.

"Looks like I found out two new facts about our resident genius," She teased gently. "She's a neat freak AND secretly a cat."

Hermione's blush intensified even further, and she seemed to shrink into herself.

"Hey hey," Daphne retracted her statement, concerned. "I was just teasing, you know I didn't mean it right?"

Hermione shyly glanced up, still a bit concerned about her image in Daphne's eyes. Said blonde held out the hand that had been detached during the ordeal.

"Still up for that shopping I promised you?" She offered, her voice gentle and more warm than usual. Hermione bit her lip before extending her own hand and placing it in Daphne's. Daphne flashed a brilliant smile at Hermione before leading her (not as roughly this time) out of the restaurant.

* * *

Hermione was staring intently across the room at something. She was startled as Daphne nudged her slightly to get her attention.

"Do you see something you like?" Daphne asked. She dropped the robes she had been examining back into the rack. They were ugly anyway. Hermione glanced up at her and smiled shyly.

"I think so." Hermione replied lightly. She glanced back in the same direction she had been looking in. Daphne had led them to a small store in a smaller sub-alley off of Diagon Alley with an unpronounceable French name. The fashion was obviously high-class, and Hermione felt slightly uncomfortable with the extravagant surroundings.

"Lead on, then." Daphne broke her out of her musings. Hermione nodded before strolling briskly towards the section across the shop. She tilted her head to the side as she pulled a dark green set of casual robes out of the rack. Daphne raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"My my, little Gryffindor. Those are Slytherin colours indeed." She teased, letting her hands settle on Hermione's shoulders and swaying her back and forth. Hermione smiled, tilting her head back to glare playfully at Daphne. She usually disliked too much physical contact with people, but Daphne made things like this seem natural and comfortable.

"Who knows, maybe I have a bit of that ambitiousness inside of me." Hermione tried to state in a pompous tone. Daphne laughed, the sound friendly and light.

"Tell me more about how you're ambitious enough to become a patriotic paper-pusher." Daphne smiled down at Hermione, who was still looking at Daphne's face upside down.

"Hey!" Hermione squawked indignantly. "I'll have you know that I'm not a paper-pusher!" She turned and shoved Daphne's shoulder mock-angrily. She thought about what she had done all morning, and deflated a bit. "Actually, I kind of am."

Daphne giggled quietly, trying not to offend.

"Don't worry, soon enough, you'll get enough experience to sit in on court meetings and take notes. That'll be _much_ more fun." Daphne let the right amount of sarcasm leak into her words so that Hermione would understand. With a harrumph, Hermione turned and started examining the piece of clothing she had picked out. She held it up slightly higher so Daphne – who was looking over her shoulder – could see.

"What do you think?" She asked, a bit nervously. What if her sense of fashion didn't match up to pureblood standards?

"I think it's beautiful." Daphne complimented, feeling the tension radiating from Hermione. "In fact, I think it would be more beautiful with you wearing it. So go put it on!" She smirked, steering Hermione to a changing booth. "Come out when you're done."

Hermione found herself standing in a small – but not too small – booth that had a full length mirror on the opposing wall of the red curtain that functioned as a door. She glanced around before starting to change into the robes, which came with a set of underclothes that consisted of a blindingly white blouse and long, black pants. As she started to shrug the robes on she heard Daphne's voice calling out.

"Hurry up!" She teased. "Or are you turtle-cat hybrid?"

Hermione huffed and hurried. She stepped outside, leaving her former clothes sitting on a convenient stool outside the booth. Daphne ran her eyes up and down her outfit, and Hermione started to feel a bit nervous. Did she wear it wrong? Why wasn't Daphne saying anything?

"You look gorgeous." Daphne declared at last. A blush creeped onto Hermione's face. She wasn't used to compliments, and it'd been a long time since anyone, even Ron, had commented positively on her physical appearance. Daphne smiled at her.

"Would you like to try anything else? If you like this, I think there'd be a lot of clothes in this store you'd like." She helpfully informed Hermione. Hermione nodded quietly and stepped back into the booth to change. After a while, she came out with the robes on a hanger. Daphne took the hanger from her and handed it to a hovering attendant. They wandered off, further into the store which was actually larger than Hermione had assumed at first. There were probably enlargement charms on the building, seeing as if the laws of nature had been followed, they would be in one of the other stores by now.

Hermione was hesitant at first, but got caught up with Daphne's obvious enthusiasm for shopping. She started to pick out more clothing she liked, not just robes, but shirts, pants, dresses, even a necklace she particularly admired. Within thirty minutes she had collected a dozen articles of clothing. Daphne discreetly cast a Tempus charm.

"You should go try these on now." Daphne commented. "We have maybe another twenty minutes to get back to the Ministry." Hermione was startled. Had time flown by so fast? It had seemed maybe five or ten minutes since they'd started. She glanced around, a little bit lost in the vast number of aisles. Daphne chuckled and nudged her in the right direction, and they eventually made their way back to the booths.

Hermione stepped into the same booth she had used earlier and started to strip quickly, trying on several pieces for Daphne to see and deciding which ones she liked enough to buy. In a short while, she had arrived to her last, and possibly favorite piece of clothing. It was a cream-coloured dress that had fabric so soft it felt like water in her hands. She slipped off her pants and blouse – it'd be awkward to have them on under a dress – and stepped into the dress. She flushed as she realized that there was a zipper far up on the back – and she couldn't reach it.

"Daphne?" She called out tentatively.

"Is everything alright?" The blonde's voice immediately replied, sounding a bit concerned.

"Um.." Hermione scrambled to find the best way to word it. "I need some help putting on my dress." She gingerly explained. There was a brief silence and an almost inaudible laugh.

"Can I come in?" Daphne finally replied.

"O-ok.." Hermione replied, a bit insecure. She was reasonably in shape, but she had always been a bit unsure whether she was attractive or not. Ron had been her friend for years before they got together romantically, so she felt a bit more comfortable with him. There was a soft swishing sound as Daphne stepped into the booth.

The two bodies in a small space warmed up the previously room-temperature room. Hermione shifted a bit at the rise in heat.

"It's only a small zipper," Daphne teased, her voice breaking the silence. "I thought one of the Golden Trio would've been more flexible than this."

Daphne's breath brushed the back of Hermione's neck, and she shivered. The fine hairs as the base of her neck were sensitive (almost no one knew this) and she felt vulnerable with Daphne standing behind her.

"I stopped practicing after the war ended." Hermione replied, a bit curtly. She could feel the literal change in the air as Daphne took back her teasing. Hermione felt a bit bad for having such a low tolerance, but the term 'Golden Trio' just made her uncomfortable.

She felt a hand lightly touch the small of her back before it drifted up to grab the zipper and pull it up the chain. There was a light noise of friction and the click as it finished the trail. The zipper was designed so that it could be tucked into a small pocket – almost invisible – to the side of the chain. Daphne tucked it in slowly, and Hermione could feel the light pressure upon her back.

"Turn around?" Daphne's statement was more of a question, and Hermione slowly stepped forward a bit so she could turn without bumping into Daphne. They were much closer than a normal conversation dictated, but she didn't feel too claustrophobic. Daphne's eyes were a bit sheepish and regretful, but when Hermione smiled to signal that she was forgiven, Daphne perked up a bit.

"How does it look?" Hermione asked. Daphne's eyes slowly trailed down Hermione's body and back up. Hermione could physically feel the path Daphne's eyes took and felt self-conscious.

"Fantastic." Daphne replied honestly. Hermione had been spending a moderate amount of time in the sun, and her skin was a nice, naturally tanned colour. The cream dress contrasted without clashing, and looked elegant on Hermione's lithe frame.

"Thank you." Hermione murmured quickly. Daphne stepped out of the booth a bit awkwardly.

"I'll leave you to change, then." She grinned. "Don't take too long, we've got to get back to boring old work soon."

Hermione playfully reached out and half-heartedly slapped Daphne's forearm.

"Get out, you." She called as the curtain swished back into place.

In not too much time, she was dressed in her more plain clothes once more. She stepped out of the booth with the dress draped over her arm, the rest of the clothing having been taken by the attendant. Daphne was standing some distance away, but noticed Hermione coming out of the booth. She waved her over, and started walking towards the entrance. Hermione assumed the 'check-out' area was similar to how Muggles arranged their stores.

As they walked up to the counter, the cashier just handed a medium sized designer shopping bag to her. She glanced, confused, at Daphne. The blonde smirked mysteriously down at her in return.

"What's going on? Don't I have to pay?" Hermione asked.

"Nope. I already did." Daphne smugly replied.

"What?" Hermione's first response was. "But.."

"No buts." Daphne chastised. "Let's just say it's your welcome gift to the department."

Hermione blushed. She had barely really known Daphne for about a day, and she had been nicer than some 'friends' she had in the past.

"Thank you." She sincerely said. Daphne waved off the words like they were physical.

"Don't worry about it." She grinned. "You won't be able to fully appreciate my gift, because you'll be too busy pushing papers back at work."

With that, the casual atmosphere of teasing and general friendliness was returned.

"Shall we?" Daphne said for the second time that day, with the identical gesture of holding out her hand. This time, Hermione didn't hesitate and beamed as the two moved off towards the Ministry.


	5. Chapter 4: Dark Russia and Dinner

Wow, this is long for me. I wanted to try longer chapters, see if it would work out better. I'm also going on a community service trip for a week, so I won't be writing during that time. Hopefully this can tide you over for a while.

Serious Disclaimer: All references and ideas related to the Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and Co.

Not Serious Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I would have a personal valet to just carry all my stuff. Instead, I have to wear 40 pounds on my back for a week.

* * *

Hermione poked her head out of her office when she heard the crash. It was not the smartest thing to do, but since her face hadn't been blasted off by a spell yet, she supposed it was reasonable. Across the hall, Daphne copied her actions almost completely step-by-step; peek head out, wince at bad decision, but shrug and continue. When Daphne wasn't aware that anyone was looking, her face seemed softer, more gentle. When she glanced over and saw Hermione, the expression almost didn't change.

"Any idea what that was?" She asked curiously, blessedly ignoring the fact that Hermione had been staring at her. "It sounded like it came from the lobby of our floor."

"Girdle your loins, everyone!" A deep voice shouted as a blur streaked past Hermione and Daphne's noses. Daphne's head swiveled to the right, following the blur which had apparently shouted the ridiculous phrase.

"Theodore! What are you doing?" She yelled at the retreating figure, his robes billowing out behind him. She sighed when she got no reply and stepped out into the hallway fully. Hermione copied her actions and glanced down the now empty hallway that Theodore had just finished sprinting through. Daphne sighed again and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"He has a hero complex, rather like your Harry." Daphne explained. "He wants to make sure whatever happened isn't a threat to the department."

"That's rather charming." Hermione chuckled quietly. "I'm sure whatever happened was just an accident or not a danger."

Daphne shrugged, her robes making a smooth, shifting noise as it rubbed against itself.

"Let's go find out, then." She suggested. "I think all three branches heard that, so we won't be in danger. Besides, I have 'the smartest witch of the century' with me, so what can go wrong?"

Hermione didn't usually like being called 'the smartest witch of the century', but when it came from Daphne, it was just a compliment, not a stranger saying it with layered meanings.

The two started to walk – a bit cautiously – down the hallway. As they walked, people – in a way very similar to theirs – emerged from their offices. They followed the pair, and as they walked, a larger and larger crowd formed behind them.

As they walked closer to the entrance of the level, they started to hear snippets of an argument going on. The closer they got, the slower they became. No one really wanted to burst in on what could be a personal fight. They reached a set of oak double doors that framed the entrance of their branch of the department, and some larger snatches of the conversation could be heard.

"–Want to see the girl!" A baritone, angry voice was shouting. Theodore was quieter, and while the group pressed up to the doors could hear his voice, they couldn't make out what he was saying.

"What your department has done... Jus-.. sgusting.. how dare y... shut you down perma.." The deep voice was raving, almost talking to himself, although with the nature of the statements, it seemed obvious he was directing his anger at their department.

Suddenly, the doors they had been planting their ears against in an attempt to hear the conversation better swung outward. Hermione stumbled forward and almost fell flat on her face, but Daphne winded an arm around her waist and pull her back up to standing position. As she straightened up, she came face-to-face with a tall, heavy-set bear of a man. He had salt and pepper dark hair, and a light stubble on his chin. He glared down at Hermione, before turning away like she was insignificant. To the group's surprise, the mysterious man just kept ranting at Theodore.

"I absolutely refuse to believe that you have allowed such a monstrosity into the department. This is the Department of International Magical Cooperation, not the Office of Muggle Liaison!"

With each sentence, Theodore's blue eyes grew flintier and sharper.

"You may have been the head of the department in an age gone by, but you are no longer a figure of power here. I am the new head, and I'm ordering you to get out, right now." Theodore snapped angrily. With perfect timing, the elevator 'dinged' as it arrived to their floor. Kingsley Shacklebolt with Harry and Ron as Aurors stepped out.

"Is there a problem here?" Kingsley's voice rumbled. His eyes swept over the scene swiftly, carefully analyzing the situation. They came to a rest on the burly man.

"Rowan Fawkley." The words were spat out, almost disgustedly. "What are you doing inside the Ministry?"

The man bristled, having been named with such vehemence. He pulled himself up to his full height and glared around the circle of employees that surrounded him.

"I'm here to put things to right. I'm here to get rid of the plague you've allowed into the once noble department! I'm here to get rid of the _mudblood!_" His last word was shouted, and it echoed in the silence that remained.

Finally, Kingsley opened his mouth. His eyes flickered with something dangerous, but his voice betrayed none of his anger.

"Aurors Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, you are authorized to use whatever force necessary to remove the threat from the Ministry. Make sure to update the wards so that _Rowan_ may never enter again."

Harry and Ron nodded and stepped forward, each grabbed one of the man's shoulders before steering his forcefully into the elevator. As the door started to close, Harry shot an apologetic look at Hermione, who had shrunk behind Daphne. Hermione had to strain to see what he was mouthing silently, but could make out the words 'I'm sorry'.

The department in it's entirety watched in tense silence as the elevator started to rise. They stood for a full half minute in a stew of apprehension.

"I'm sure you are wondering what that was all about." Theodore started, his voice tired. "Rowan was the head of the department before Bartemius Crouch Senior, and he was a notable blood purist. Before the war, this department was limited to half-bloods and purebloods due to the fact that magical diplomacy requires intense etiquette of the noble class. Recently, we have invited Hermione to our midst. This has caused uproar in more than a few social circles."

Hermione couldn't hear anymore. She turned and started to walk rapidly down the hallway, striding through the double doors that were still blasted open. Her breathing was ragged and awkwardly halfway between sobbing and hyperventilation. Just as she reached for her office door's handle, two arms came around her waist and pulled her into a warm embrace.

"I didn't know, I didn't know," Hermione gasped as she braced herself with her forearms on her office door. "I thought it was going to be ok, that after the war things would be better."

"Things are better." Daphne's sorrowful voice tried to convince. One of her arms rose from around Hermione to tug open the door and ease both of them into the office. They stumbled, imbalanced, into the small room. Daphne closed the door behind them and turned Hermione around so she was leaning on Daphne's shoulder. "There are the extremists, but things ARE moving forward. Don't ever doubt that. By joining this department, you're going to help everyone else who is discriminated against and yourself."

Hermione started to cry in earnest, then. She pressed her face into the pleasant smelling cloth that covered Daphne's shoulder and let her tears soak into the (probably expensive) fabric. Throughout it, Daphne didn't even mock her once. She just quietly cooed and whispered reassuring phrases as she gently stroked Hermione's back. There was the sound of cautious footsteps outside the door, and after a moment, a small knock.

"Who is it?" Daphne answered for Hermione, knowing that her voice would be shaky.

"It's Theodore." The man's kind voice called. "Can I come in?"

Daphne looked down at Hermione. It wasn't really her call, so she was looking for Hermione's approval. Hermione just sniffled and wiped her eyes, before slowly nodding. The two moved away from the door as Daphne called out an affirmation. The door swung open as Theodore slipped into the room.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly. His open, honest face was filled with melancholy and regret. Hermione shrugged her shoulders, retreating from Daphne to lean against the edge of her desk. She brought up her arms to cross them in front of herself, even though she wasn't cold.

"I know this position might put a lot of stress on you." Theodore started, seemingly about to make an important decision. "So I would like to say.. If you would like to resign, no one would judge you."

"No!" Hermione burst out. She covered her mouth, as if surprised by her own words. "I mean, I've only been here a day. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I gave up now."

"Hermione–" Daphne began, pausing a bit when Hermione swiveled her head to observe her. "He's only the first, and a retired Ministry worker. He can't do anything, but there are others like him. Others, that have power in the Ministry. Would you be able to put up with that?"

Hermione scrunched up her nose, thinking rapidly through her options.

"I don't want to quit." She restated determinedly. "I can deal."

Just as she spoke the words, a miniature paper lion squeezed itself under the door and popped up, startling the trio. Instead of arriving at a specific person's hand and unfolding, it opened it's maw and words – with Harry's voice – floated out.

"Hermione, are you ok?" His nervous and saddened voice called. "We set the wards again so that guy can't ever come back in, but still.." There was a shuddering sigh. "I'm just worried. What if someone hurt you? I wouldn't be able to forgive myself. Be safe, and I'll see you soon." The lion closed it's mouth and padded up to her foot before nudging it and staring up at her with paper eyes. She picked it up with a hand and it opened it's jaw again, this time with a cordial automated message playing.

"To reply, tap the lion with your wand and clearly say 'Ausculto'. Once the eyes light up, say your message. When done, tap again and say 'Animus Leo' while thinking of the person you wish to send the messenger to."

After the message, the paper lion's eyes turned from a dull red to grey, and the head swung down to rest upon it's chest.

Hermione glanced up at the two others in the room, but decided to go ahead and record her message right away. She pulled her wand out of her wrist holster and tapped the paper artifact.

"Ausculto." She dictated clearly, and the lion's head rose up, shaking it's miniature mane majestically. It's grey eyes lit up, and it awaited it's message.

"Harry, I've discussed with Daphne and Theodore – my head of department – and I think I've decided to continue working here even though there are threats like that man, Rowan, out there. It would be cowardly for me to back out, and I'm not a ex-Gryffindor for nothing. We should have dinner at my house tomorrow night, bring Ginny, and I'll make sure Ron behaves. Does 7 o'clock sound fine? If so, you don't need to reply. Just show up. We'll talk in person later, I have pressing issues to attend to." She finished and waited as the lion processed her thoughts. Without a warning, it leapt to the ground and started jogging towards the door. The trio watched as the paper animal, once again, squeezed under the door before disappearing.

Theodore sighed, before casting a Tempus and checking the time.

"We have to clean up the mess he made in the lobby, you might not have noticed, but he smashed our secretary's desk. That was the crashing noise everyone heard." Theodore explained. "Why don't you two take the rest of the day off? It's almost dinner time, and we have to straighten up the place."

Hermione nodded and started to gather up the things she had distributed throughout her office. Daphne slipped out of the room, presumably to go to her own office and get her own personal belongings before leaving.

After finishing, Hermione turned and faced Theodore.

"I'm sorry I broke down like that." She murmured tiredly. "Thank you for defending me."

Theodore's eyes softened. He reached out an arm and patted Hermione gently on the shoulder.

"Don't worry about it. There will always be people like him, but we'll fight them off. You're part of the family now, and they'll have to go through every single one of us before they get to you."

With that, he slipped quietly back out of the room and shut the door with a soft click. Hermione was left with the smell of new parchment and fresh oak, and the feeling of warmth somewhere suspiciously close to her heart.

Hermione was detachedly watching the elevator doors close when she heard Daphne's voice calling out.

"Hermione! Hold the door!"

With a jerk of surprise, she reached out a hand and pushed the button to keep the lattice-work from closing. Daphne walked faster down the hallway, and reached the elevator in record time, a bit out of breath. Before speaking, she held up a hand and took a few gulps of air.

"Are you going home?" She asked ambiguously. Hermione blinked. Why did it matter? She suppose she was, since there was nothing else for her to do. Ron probably would be assisting with cross-referencing other potential enemies and would be staying late with Harry and Kingsley. Dinner alone was rather depressing, but not something she was unused to.

"I guess, why?" Hermione answer. She waved Daphne into the small space and pushed the button for the Atrium. The grate started to close slowly once again.

"Do you have an obligation to?" Daphne asked. Hermione was confused by the question. Daphne caught her eyes, understanding that what she said was too vague. "I mean, do you have to meet Ronald or something like that?"

Hermione shook her head.

"I'll be eating a home-cooked dinner alone. I got a message a while ago saying he would probably have to stay late and help out in some matters." She explained. Daphne's eyes lit up.

"So that means you're free?" She inquired excitedly. "I know a great restaurant that I could apparate us to, would you like to go?"

Hermione was a bit surprised. A dinner out on a night like this? However, she supposed it could be a pleasant experience. Daphne had been awfully kind to her on her first day, and she had enjoyed shopping quite a bit. Truthfully, it was a welcome alternative to night alone. After a bit of thinking, she slowly nodded. Daphne's slight smile widened to a full-blown grin.

"That's great! I sent my things back to my house through the Floo, we can swing by your house then I'll bring you to the restaurant." Daphne thoughtfully mused to herself, planning out the whole evening in her head.

The elevator doors opened, revealing the Atrium. It was almost empty, which was a rare experience for Hermione. The pair crossed over to the Floo, where Hermione stopped Daphne for a bit.

"My address is 301, Flemington Way, Residence of Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger." Hermione explained. "Try not to get lost." She added, a teasing lilt to her smile. Daphne grinned back and nudged Hermione forward.

Hermione grabbed a pinch of Floo powder after dropping a Knut into the bowl, and shouted her address when the flames turned green. She spun away, trying to step out gracefully, but instead falling on her face. She tried to scramble back to her feet to compose herself, but only ended up slipped on the sooty area near the fireplace. As she thumped back to the floorboards, she thought to herself 'I really need to clean the house soon.'

Daphne stepped out of the fireplace a moment later, almost tripping over Hermione's outstretched legs. Instead, she had to nimbly hop over the body lying prone on the ground and peer curiously at the brunette.

"Alright down there?" A smile was slowly creeping into her words, and as Hermione glanced up, Daphne saw the hopelessness of clumsy person who hated magical travel. Sparing her from further ridicule, she offered a hand, and Hermione gratefully took it. Hermione noted that while Daphne looked very feminine and thin, she was actually quite strong. The blonde heaved Hermione up to a standing position, but didn't let go of the hand.

With a quick motion, Daphne pulled out her wand with her free hand and 'Scourgified' Hermione. The dust and soot that had rubbed onto Hermione's robes was whisked away.

"Thank you." Hermione smiled up at Daphne. It'd been a long time since anyone had helped her, since she was used to cleaning up after Harry and Ron. Daphne smiled back, and although the moment stretched seconds and seconds longer, Hermione felt nothing but comfortable with the situation.

"Right, then, I'll wait here while you go put your things away?" Daphne finally asked, breaking the silence. Hermione nodded before walking off down the short hallway, stepped into the last door on the right; the master bedroom. Ron had evidently gone back to sleep after she had left, since the sheets were rumpled and one of the pillows was on the ground. She sighed before efficiently cleaning the room using her wand, not feeling up to physically working at the moment. She dropped the bag of clothing that she had bought earlier that day, and opened the wardrobe. A change of clothes would be nice for dinner, something comfortable and casual.

When Hermione came back out to the living room, she found Daphne examining some photos on the mantel of the fireplace. Hermione kept her footsteps light and quiet, but had to stand on the tips of her toes to look over Daphne's shoulder. A whiff of light, floral perfume brushed against her sense. Daphne was staring at a black and white moving picture of Harry, Ron, and Hermione during their second year. The trio of students horsed around in a carefree way, before the 12 year old Hermione squinted out of the photo and pointed behind Daphne.

Daphne spun around, dislodging Hermione from her perch at her shoulder. Hermione stumbled back a bit before Daphne reached out a hand and steadied her. Hermione glanced up at Daphne's eyes with a small grin playing around her lips.

"Even the great Daphne can be caught off-guard sometimes." She teased. Daphne smiled indulgently before leading Hermione backwards towards the front door (which she had discovered in Hermione's absence.)

"Ready to go to dinner, you cheeky brat?" Daphne childishly nudged Hermione's face with a knuckle.

"Anytime." The words 'cheeky brat' might have offended her in another setting, but from Daphne, it was just an affectionate nickname.

The pair stepped out of Hermione's front door, (painted the last Summer to be a pastel blue) and Daphne offered out a dignified forearm.

"Hold on tightly." She advised as Hermione tried to gracefully place her hand on the proffered arm in a mockery. Daphne concentrated on her destination as the world twisted around them. Hermione's grip on Daphne's arm tightened in surprise, and Daphne wrapped her other arm around Hermione in the brief turbulence to make sure the brunette wouldn't get splinched.

With a pop, they arrived in front of what seemed to be an overly large cottage. The outside foundations – and decor – seem to primarily consist of crafted wood and strangely enough, straw and wattle. Hermione raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Don't worry," Daphne reassured with a sly smirk. "It's not QUITE as rustic as it looks."

Hermione noticed a wide set of double doors conveniently located on the nearest outside wall of the cottage.

"Ready to go in?" Daphne asked. Hermione shrugged noncommittally, and Daphne turned and strode briskly towards the entrance. Upon reaching the handsome set of wooden – seemingly heavy – doors, she rapped an offbeat rhythm with her knuckles. After a short pause, the doors were pulled inwards, and Hermione got a glance into the inner workings of the strange house.

"Ah!" A well-dressed man – who seemed to be dressed a butler – exclaimed loudly. "Eet iz Madame Greengrass!"

Daphne smirked smugly as she nodded at the man. She glanced over at Hermione.

"If you haven't noticed yet, I'm quite a big deal around here." She bragged in a stage whisper. Hermione just rolled her eyes playfully and lightly punched her in the arm.

"Madame, your usual seat 'as been prepared." The butler intervened before the two could descend into a childish game of hair-ruffling. "Mr. Lemercier will stop by your table, of course, to discuss some details of our courses today."

With that, the butler turned and walked deeper into the house. Hermione nearly had to jog to keep up with the excitable man, and she noticed a bit belatedly that the house was obviously bigger on the inside compared to the outside. They were passing through a large aisle, unlike many in normal restaurants. The place was nearly empty, despite the state of the day indicating it was right around time for dinner.

Along with the enlargement charms on the inside of the building, Hermione suspected there were many more enchantments placed on the establishment. When she walked in, she had felt magic tingle along her skin. Before she could ponder more about the clearly advanced spellwork laced all over the place, they arrived at a small, fancily furnished booth in the corner.

"You first." Daphne bowed lightly with an exaggerated flourish. "Either side is fine."

Hermione carefully slid into the booth that was facing away from the entrance (which was so far away at this point she couldn't see it from where she had been standing) and dropped a small purse she had brought that night onto a small space next to her. Daphne slid into the opposite side, rapidly talking to the butler in French. He nodded, taking notes on a small pad of paper which had appeared out of nowhere, then crisply saluted and walked off.

"I didn't know you could speak French." Hermione inquired, disguising her question as a statement. Daphne smiled enigmatically.

"All Pureblood children are required to learn at least one foreign language before they even start Hogwarts." She explained. "Most choose French, seeing as a lot of the business done between the Purebloods includes a large portion of the upscale French families."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. She herself only spoke English and the small portion of French she had taken at school before she had left for Hogwarts.

"Are there any other languages you know?" Hermione inquired. It wasn't too unlikely that the intelligent blonde knew more languages than just the two required by her family.

"I am currently learning Russian." The blonde shrugged modestly. "Most of the hostile diplomats that deal with our department are from Dark Russia, so it wouldn't hurt to eavesdrop on them when they think their conversations are private."

Hermione blinked rapidly. The idea Daphne had proposed was quite astute, and cunning enough so that Hermione would've never thought of it. The blonde certainly deserved to be a Slytherin.

Before Hermione could compliment her friend on her unique idea, a expensively dressed man appeared at the edge of their table. His hair was dark and styled carefully, (probably with wizarding gel) and his face had notable aristocratic features. With practiced ease, he plucked Daphne's hand off the table where it lay, and gently brought it to his lips.

"Madame Greengrass, what a pleasure eet iz to 'ave you 'ere." His voice was smooth and flattering, traits of a longtime restaurant owner.

"Hello, André." Daphne replied, directing a brilliant smile his way. Hermione felt a twinge of jealousy in her gut, which was entirely unpleasant. She had been used to the blonde's constant attention for almost a full day, and to have a random, slick man suddenly receive it was unusually uncomfortable for her.

"Eet iz unusual to 'ave you show up on such a short notice, madame." André commented. Daphne smiled gently.

"Well, things HAVE been a bit unusual recently." She replied congenially. "What do we have on the menu today, André?"

With that, the man descended in a rapid-fire commentary of the restaurant's most recent updates – in French. Hermione sat awkwardly in silence while Daphne occasionally apologetic eye contact. When the man finished, Daphne replied in fluent French, her voice soft like velvet using the foreign language. André sent another bright smile at his customers before nearly skipping off.

"I hope you don't mind that I ordered for you." Daphne sheepishly admitted. "I thought it would take too much time to translate everything from French to English."

Hermione shrugged self-consciously.

"It's ok. I trust your judgement." With that, the air between them grew empty. Daphne bit her lip, clearly at a loss.

"Uh – so how are things with Ronald?" She finally asked, breaking the silence with a neutral question. With the mention of the redhead, Hermione's mood grew worse, but she strove to upheld the public image of a sweetheart couple.

"We're doing pretty well." She lied between her teeth. If Daphne noticed, she didn't comment. "If you remember the message I sent to Harry, we'll have a small group dinner tomorrow night."

"Well, in light of all the stressful situations recently, it might be a good idea to take a few nights off, spend some romantic time with him." Daphne suggested, blithely unaware to how NOT 'romantic' the couple's recent interactions had been. Hermione just nodded reluctantly, trying not to offend.

Within a few moments, the two shifted from an uneasy start to better footing and more comfortable conversations. The time started to fly as the two discussed everything from Hermione's hair-styling potions, to Harry's current accomplishments as an Auror. Within what seemed like moments, André showed up again.

"Madames, I hope you will enjoy your meal." He announced proudly, as he gave an exaggerated bow. A waiter that had been following behind him carefully set down a large plate of food in front of each woman, and several appetizers. André himself cheerfully popped a bottle of wine he had been holding behind his back, and skillfully poured equal portions into two fine-stemmed wineglasses he had been holding in his other hand. With a flourish, he set them down on the table.

"Thank you André, wonderful service as always." Daphne praised. Hermione frowned a bit. What was so special about just showing up and getting your cooks to prepare a meal? So far, the French man had done nothing deserving of Daphne's approval. André glanced over at Hermione's slightly hostile face, before leaning down and whispering something. Daphne gave a startled laugh, before shifting her clear eyes to rest on Hermione's face.

"Non, non.." She replied to whatever the man had said. "Ne taquinez pas, André."

The restaurant owner just grinned wider.

"Non votre petite amie? Really?" He continued. Hermione was fidgeting under the stares of the pair conversing in half French, half English. Didn't 'petite amie' mean girlfriend? What were they talking about? Hermione stopped spacing out when Daphne shooed away André. She turned once-more apologetic eyes to the brunette.

"He was just teasing me about something." Daphne explained. "I'm sorry that we excluded you with speaking French, but it was something deeply personal. Hermione waved her hands slightly to show she didn't mind.

"So what did you order for me?" She asked curiously. She looked down at her plate, where assorted small meats and pockets of pasta lay. An artful design out of colored cream was also decorated upon the edge of the bowl (apparently edible). As Daphne started to explain the intricacies of French dining, the evening sped up once more. Before Hermione knew it, it was close to 9pm, and her glass of wine (very expensive wine, she was sure) had been refilled and emptied a few times.

"Wow, look at the time." Hermione exclaimed, feeling a slight bit flushed. She didn't drink often, and the wine had obviously addled her head a bit. Thankfully, there was a clock on the wall of the restaurant, in obvious sight. Otherwise, she wouldn't have thought of checking the time with a spell for a long time yet. The food Daphne had ordered had been delicious, and she still wasn't any closer to figuring out what it had been made up of.

"It is getting quite late." Daphne added her two cents. "Maybe we should go now?"

Hermione agreed hesitantly. It had been one of the best nights she had ever had, and she was sad to see it go. She rose to her feet, swaying slightly. She hadn't realized that she was _quite_ this drunk. Daphne rose at the same time as her, reaching over the table to steady her gentle rocking motion.

Hermione stepped out of the booth, remembering to grab her purse. A butler stepped forward from where he had been standing at attention against the wall, and started to lead them towards the entrance/exit of the building.

"Wait.." Hermione blinked rapidly, feeling as if she'd forgotten something. "How did we pay for dinner?"

Daphne smiled indulgently before placing her hands on Hermione's shoulders to remind the brunette to look forward, thereby preventing any tripping-over-the-feet.

"I paid." She replied simply. Hermione's brow furrowed, and she glanced back at Daphne.

"You didn't have to. You already got me clothes and everything, and you've been so nice to me all day.." Her actions were starting to become listless. Along with being slightly tipsy, she was also quite tired from the day's ordeals. Daphne laughed, her voice light and happy.

"Just think of the whole day as my gift, then." She assuaged the confused witch.

"If you being nice is a gift.. Is it gonna stop?" Hermione suddenly asked, a bit worried. What if Daphne was just welcoming her? What if she didn't really want to be friends?

"No, that's a given." Daphne chuckled. "You're more drunk than I thought. Aren't you the lightweight?"

Hermione indignantly scrunched up her nose.

"Am not." She pouted. Before Daphne could retort (probably with a good argument), they arrived at the set of double doors that had entered through. Thankfully (for Hermione), André was nowhere in sight.

"Au revoir," The same butler that had led them in held open one of the doors. "Eet was a pleasure to 'ave you 'ere today, madame."

Daphne smiled politely before guiding Hermione out the doors.

"I don't think you're sober enough to apparate without splinching yourself, so I'll do it." Daphne groused playfully. Hermione punched her arm lightly. In response, Daphne grabbed her in a bear hug around the waist, before apparating them without warning to the hallway in front of Hermione's apartment. Hermione swayed alarmingly, seemingly nauseous from the unexpected magical travel.

"Are you ok?" Daphne asked worriedly. She hadn't expected this effect on the normally composed woman. Hermione held up a hand, before steadying herself.

"Perfectly fine." She replied, the words obviously not true. Daphne rolled her eyes before holding her hand out, requesting the key to the front door. Hermione fished out the key from her bag without complaining, and handed it over sullenly to the blonde like a misbehaved child. Daphne sent her a fond smile before opening the door deftly and guiding Hermione in. The lights were off, so Ron was still thankfully at work.

Instead of saying her goodbyes, Daphne continued to steer Hermione by the shoulders, down the hallway towards the room she had seen Hermione disappear into earlier. Hermione was simply too tired to resist.

Daphne took in the room quickly, observing which side of the bed was Hermione's. There were two bedside tables, and one had an assortment of memos, alarms, and a small writing lamp. It was also meticulously arranged. Obviously Hermione's.

She pulled back the blankets on that side, and gently helped Hermione into bed.

"Mmmhhnngggh." Hermione mumbled as she slid into the blissfully comfortable space. "THhhnnak."

"I'll take that as a thank you, then." Daphne teased. The sight of a tipsy and tired Hermione was adorable. Hermione was already falling asleep, the day finally over. She blinked owlishly up at the helpful blonde before attempting a more coherent sentence.

"Thank you for today." She whispered. Daphne grinned down at her.

"Anytime." Daphne kindly responded. Hermione started to lose her grip on consciousness and slip into the darkness of sleep, but before she heard the click of the light switch and the closing of the door, she could've sworn she felt the light, soft press of lips on her cheek, and the scent of floral perfume.


End file.
